


Serpent’s Schism

by Musyc



Series: Shelter and Sanctuary [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Torture, Voldemort Wins, captive/slave, dark themes, post-war AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: When playing the game of survival, rules can be broken at any time. Hermione will break any rule it takes to keep herself alive and reunite with Draco. Both sides have their secrets and both have their plans.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Shelter and Sanctuary [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/9506
Comments: 146
Kudos: 338





	Serpent’s Schism

None of the cottage's former occupants ran from the sounds of battle. None fled as they'd been ordered, retreating to regroup and survive. Not one. Hermione, running beside Lucius, caught glimpses of them through the trees. Lee, leaping over a fallen tree. Angelina, hurdling a narrow stream. George and Terry, slashing through underbrush. No one had obeyed Lucius' command to run, and Hermione hated them all for it. Each fighter was a risk if Draco was leading the attack. Every combatant might be the one who murdered him.

A scream rose through the forest, cut off abruptly with the shriek of magic. Hermione shuddered. She knew she should be angry at the invaders, possibly even more angry at herself. They were under attack and more were going to die. Still, all she could think of was Draco. Draco somewhere in the forest, his grey eyes dark with battle beneath the cold steel of his Death Eater's mask, his long fingers wrapped around his wand as he cast spells to defend his life.

A bright orange bolt of magic cut through the forest directly in front of her. Hermione yelped and slid to her knees in wet leaves, one hand squelching into thick mud. She swore and wiped it off on her leg when she scrambled into the shelter of a large, rounded boulder. A small family of spiders skittered away as her arm rubbed against the stone. She watched them run across the boulder, remembering how Draco had called the spiders in the Forbidden Forest to kill Alecto Carrow. He could kill when he needed. She prayed he'd do anything to survive now.

Hermione poked her head up over the boulder, skimming the forest around her. Lucius had disappeared, running for the sounds of skirmish. For the moment, the noise of the battle was distant, well away from her, and Hermione slumped down in the shadows behind the boulder, tucked under a rock ledge with her hand pressed to her throat and the leather belt as she struggled to catch her breath.

The refugees had already lost Terrence Higgs, she remembered Lucius saying. She didn't want to think of who else might die in this attack as they fled. She didn't want to think of anyone except herself, except Draco. She'd spent so long concentrating on only those two lives, on the survival of two people, that she couldn't bring herself to worry about anyone else. Deep inside her, she suspected that she should be ashamed of that. She suspected she should feel guilty, but she couldn't. She'd known, months ago, that her decision to focus on her own survival, at any cost, had broken something inside her. She'd paid that cost. If the others lived she would be pleased, but she wouldn't collapse if they died. If she lived, if _Draco_ lived--

That was all that was important to her now.

Hermione wiped her hands on her jeans and clutched her broken, temporary wand again. Slowly, she peeked over the top of the boulder, checking that the woods surrounding her were empty. The hiss and spark of magic, the shouts of people casting spells, was nearer than it had been a few minutes before, but the trees prevented her from hearing precisely where the fight had gone. She tried to remember which way Lucius had run, which direction he'd taken.

She heard raised voices, much closer than the shouts of fighting, and she turned her head. On the path behind her, in the direction that she and Lucius had come from, she spotted movement. Hermione hunkered down low, waiting to see who emerged from the woods. A spell burst overhead, showering the woods in red sparks, and the light gleamed off a steel mask.

Hermione sank her teeth into her lip and stayed as still as possible, hardly breathing, her eyes locked on the Death Eater moving through the woods. His shoulders were too wide, his movements too awkward, and she bit down on her lip harder to keep back a whimper of disappointment. One of the other Death Eaters, one of the older men, was coming closer. She didn't care which one he was. He wasn't Draco.

A second man stepped out of the trees, following him. They moved past her boulder, past the shadows where she hid, and stopped a few yards away where the path widened to let them stand side by side. "Any sign of him?" asked the first in a rough voice. Hermione tried to put the voice to a name, matching it to the men she'd heard shouting and reveling at Death Eater celebrations in the castle. She couldn't place him, but the second man spoke and a shiver ran along her skin.

"Malfoy? He's somewhere that way." The man gestured with his wand, and Hermione marked the direction, her thoughts racing. If she could get to Draco, if she could find him in the battle, maybe she could run with him. Maybe she could haul him away from the fight and they both could escape.

The first man spat through the narrow slit in his mask and shook his head. "Little bastard's a better fighter than I gave him credit for. Faster, too. Don't know how he managed to take down that sentry."

The second man gave a wet, racking laugh. "You'll have your work cut out for you. The little prick's, what? Forty years younger than you? You might want to think your revenge, Jonah."

Hermione's heart seemed to slam to a halt. Jonah. Jonah Crabbe. She remembered hearing the Death Eaters talking when she'd been on her way to escape from Hogwarts, remembered the mention of Jonah Crabbe wanting revenge. He wanted to take Draco's life in payment for his son's death. And now he was here, only yards from her. If she was quiet, if she was careful, she could stop him. She could prevent him from hunting Draco.

Hermione eyed the broken wand, the tip of one finger poking at the frayed unicorn hair visible through the wood. _Please_ , she told it silently. _Work. Work for me. Help me save Draco._

Her mind spun through the spells she knew. She couldn't speak aloud and risk alerting them to her position. She wouldn't be able to kill them, but she could stop them. That was all she needed. She needed them stopped, and she thought of one of the earliest spells she'd learned. Tentative, breath held, she edged out of the shadows and took aim at the pair of Death Eaters. She concentrated, her teeth grinding together with effort and focus as she cast the nonverbal spell.

_Petrificus Totalus_.

The Death Eater closest to her fell to the ground, landing with a wet thud in the slippery leaves. Crabbe avoided her spell, spinning out of the way. Hissing, he snapped his wand her direction before charging into the woods. Hermione scrambled back into the shelter of the boulder as a bolt of magic screamed past her. She could hear the fallen man swearing, pounding on his leg, ordering it to bend or move.

She clutched her wand and stifled a groan. The broken wand hadn't given her sufficient focus or strength. Crabbe had escaped, and the other man wasn't down. She'd left him hampered, but not enough. Not nearly enough. Already she could hear him fumbling to cancel the weak spell on his leg, scrabbling to his feet to attack. She couldn't give him time for that.

She took a fast breath and leapt up from the boulder's shelter. Stealth was no longer a consideration, and she shouted, spell after spell flung at the Death Eater. He staggered but recovered in a heartbeat, a quick Shielding charm in place. He fought back, his steel mask reflecting the colors of the spells that zipped between them, red, orange, and green bursting through the woods.

Hermione ducked between trees, closing the distance between her and the standing Death Eater. Her heart slammed against her ribs, pounding hard as she threw spells. With the broken wand, her accuracy was off and her spells were weak, but she cast as quickly as she could say the incantations, hoping the barrage of magic would do what the wand couldn't.

One wild spell hit the Death Eater, bursting across his face in brilliant purple. He shouted in outrage, staggering back. Hermione hit him again, full strength into the shout, and her spell exploded against his mask, nearly blinding her. He slammed into a large tree, then jerked and spasmed against it, his arms flailing. Hermione blinked, clearing her vision, shocked by the violent response, then she saw movement behind the tree. She saw the arm pulling back, the long dagger clutched in a fist. Scarlet blood dripped off the knife.

The Death Eater fell, and Hermione felt bile rising in her throat as she saw the jagged tear in his chest, blood pooling beneath him on the forest path. Lucius stepped from around the tree, gave her a quick glance, then knelt beside the Death Eater. He removed the man's mask, and his face twisted in a savage smile. "Yaxley," he said with dark pleasure as the other man gave a gasp of recognition.

Hermione sucked in air, staring at the Death Eater on the ground. Yaxley. She'd given Gabrielle to Yaxley all those weeks ago at the Dark Lord's command. Yaxley had beaten and raped Gabrielle, ordered her to her knees, naked, to deliver the message that the Dark Lord wanted to see Draco the night they'd been told Lucius was dead. He'd put her on a table in the Great Hall and encouraged the other Death Eaters to abuse her, to torment and rape her as well.

Hermione dug her nails into the tree beside her, almost panting in anticipation. She could feel the disgust rising up in her. She wanted to see this man punished. She wanted him dead for what she'd been forced to do to Gabrielle. She made a sound, a feral noise, and Lucius looked up, meeting her eyes. He lifted a brow and Hermione found herself nodding. She didn't know exactly why, what she meant by the gesture, but she looked Lucius in the eyes and she nodded.

Lucius smiled again, even darker. He took Yaxley's wand and flung it to Hermione. "Give my greetings to our master when you see him in hell." Without a twitch in his expression, he slit Yaxley's throat.

Hermione slumped against the tree. Her hand fell to her side, the Death Eater's wand loose in her fist. It almost stank of Dark magic, felt greasy and slick in her hand, but it was a complete and undamaged wand, full of power. Without a qualm, she dropped the damaged wand into the wet leaves at her feet and clutched the new one tight.

Lucius stood and wiped the knife on the leg of his trousers. He shoved it into a sheath at his hip and held his hand out to her. "You are lucky I looked behind to be sure you were following," he said. Hermione didn't move from the tree and Lucius' eyes narrowed. He growled and grabbed her wrist, hauling her away from the tree. "Do not fall behind again, Miss Granger. I will not return for you a second time."

Hermione shuddered at the anger in Lucius' voice, but nodded. She understood the roil of his emotion, felt it herself. She had to find Draco, too. She averted her eyes from the dead man and gestured the direction Crabbe had run. "That way," she said, her voice hoarse from the shouted spells she'd cast. "That way. Draco's that way."

Lucius stiffened. His eyes flickered, and Hermione could almost see his thoughts racing. He gave one sharp nod, then spun and stalked into the woods, leaving the body behind. His voice floated back to her. "Keep up, Miss Granger."

* * *

At the edge of a clearing, behind a group of tall, ancient walnut trees, Lucius stopped. Hermione collapsed on a gnarled root, her legs trembling as the muscles protested the unaccustomed activity. Her fingers wrapped around the leather belt at her neck as she glanced up through the leaves at the sky. About now, if things were normal, Draco would be returning to their room, stinking of smoke and blood. He would walk into the bathroom and take a shower, have his brandy, and slide into the sleeping alcove with her. They would exchange a few words before his eyes would darken. They would make love, limbs tangled and lips pressed to hot skin, until he was exhausted enough to forget what he'd done that day. Until she was floating, satiated and hazy enough to forget what he would do tomorrow. If things were normal, she would fall asleep in his arms, cared for and safe.

Hermione wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, knocking away a tear. If she found-- _No_ , she told herself with a mental shake. When. When she found Draco, she could take him with her. They could run away, escape, and things could be normal again. They would _both_ be safe.

Lucius settled his hand on her shoulder and pointed across the clearing. Hermione moved carefully, peeking between the trunks of the huge trees to see a handful of men in robes and masks. The air around them shimmered with a black sheen, thin but murky. Hermione chewed on her lip, her eyes flicking from man to man. Too tall, too broad, too old. None of them were Draco.

One man moved, turning enough to expose the man behind him, and Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth to hold back a yelp. She recognized the pattern in his mask as belonging to Jonah Crabbe. Lucius hissed a warning beside her, and Hermione held her breath, desperate to keep silent. Lucius slowly drew his wand and whispered an incantation. A small globe of shimmering black drifted from the end, a globe that matched the sheen around the Death Eaters. Hermione watched one man's lips move and his words emerged from the small globe in a murmur.

"Malfoy's fucked off," the man said, disgust in his tone. "Not surprised. The brat's as useless as his father."

"Probably off crying somewhere," said another man. He laughed, a wet and bubbling sound followed by a racking cough. "Crying like the little bitch he is. Bet he misses his whore."

"There's a fine little cunt if I ever saw one," one of the men said. He snickered, and Hermione saw him jab another man in the shoulder, one of those gestures of masculine solidarity that looked disturbingly joyful and boyish from a man in black robes and a steel mask. "Is there a queue already for her? Can't decide what I want from her first, head or tail."

The coughing man shook his head. "Bella's laid claim. She's still pissed off that the girl broke her nose. Said something about flaying her alive."

Hermione worried her teeth into her lip and nodded when Lucius gave her a glance. He arched a brow, and for a moment his expression looked as though he approved of her. Hermione felt warmth spreading through her chest. The look was so familiar, so similar to how Draco looked at her when she'd fooled the Dark Lord or the prying Death Eaters yet again. It was comforting, even in the shadows of the woods with the distant sound of battle and the vile, disgusting words of the Death Eaters gathered in the clearing. She felt the corners of her lips move and she realized she was smiling.

She forced her expression to fade, to settle into a serious mien. Now wasn't the time for smiles, not while the Death Eaters jostled each other, joking about the things they wanted to do to her or the other captives back at the castle, while they talked about the things they would do to any of the refugees they captured in this fight. She could smile later, when she'd found Draco and they were safe. When they curled up together in a narrow bed and held each other through the night.

Hermione turned her attention back to the small black globe, to the Death Eaters across the clearing. One, the largest, took control of the group and stopped their chattering. "Malfoy's scarpered," he said. "I'm taking over."

"Are you quite sure of that?"

Hermione covered her mouth with both hands to hold back a scream as the voice came from the woods. Halfway between the trees where she hid with Lucius and the group of Death Eaters behind their black, shimmering ward, a man stepped out of the shadows. He pushed his hood back, and his pale hair gleamed. Draco. Hermione's heart leapt and pounded, her blood rushing so fast she felt dizzy. Draco. Draco was still alive.

He favored one leg as he crossed the clearing, a slight limp in his stride. Still, he kept his head up, stood straight, and Hermione watched him with a strange sense of pride. They expected him to fall, to fail and die, and there he was, alive and ready. He walked up to the black ward and slashed his wand through it. "Who's missing?" he asked, looking from man to man.

Crabbe shifted his shoulders, hands clenching at his sides. "Yaxley's down," he said. His voice seemed oddly doubled now, coming in a murmur from the black globe Lucius had created and in a rumble from across the clearing. "One of the rebels. Some short woman with dark hair. Like to get my hands on that curly bitch. Choke her with that collar."

Draco, halfway through a turn, froze. He snapped his head up, staring directly at Crabbe. Hermione held her breath. The mask kept his face hidden, but she could imagine his expression. Wide eyes, two bright spots of pink high on his cheeks. Even at this distance, she could see him shudder. _Draco_ , she said deep in her mind, never taking her eyes from him. _Draco, I'm alive. I'm safe. I'm here._

She had to fight the urge to run to him, to rush across the clearing and throw herself into his arms. Her eyes pricked with hot tears at seeing him again. She shifted, her fingers coming up to wrap around the leather belt at her throat, and she felt Lucius settle his hand on her shoulder. "Do not move," he murmured to her, his voice barely louder than the rustle of rodents and insects in the underbrush. "Do not dare move, or you will have us both killed."

He pointed to the right of the clearing, where two tall Death Eaters were emerging from the trees, dragging a young man between them. Hermione covered her mouth when she saw the heavy brace on the man's leg, a brace she'd seen before at the cottage when the refugees gathered. Michael Corner.

The Death Eaters threw him to the ground. He barely moved, except when one of the men kicked him in the side. Hermione watched Draco step over to examine Michael. He glanced up at the men standing behind him, a half-circle of steel masks and black robes. She saw his shoulders straighten, watched him lift his chin. He drew his wand and held it against his thigh. "Where did the others go?"

Michael rocked his head against the dirt, refusing to speak. Draco's arm lifted, he spoke a single word, and Michael screamed under the pain of the Cruciatus. Hermione pressed her lips together, both hands clinging to the bark of the tree beside her. For once, she was glad to see Draco's mask, to know that he was hidden behind it. She could imagine his expression in that moment, the twisted grimace of his face, as he performed a torture he hated. She could almost feel the pain she was sure he was under, a pain as great as what he was inflicting.

She watched as Draco tortured Michael for information on the refugees who had fled in the attack, information he gave in hoarse, bubbling screams. The Death Eaters laughed and cheered, urging Draco to cast harder, to hit Michael with more force. At length, Michael lay in the dirt, panting and trembling, blood dripping from his mouth and nose, unable to speak even if he'd been willing. Draco turned away from him, pacing the clearing. The others stepped up, forming a ragged queue to take their turns at the young man.

Lucius touched her shoulder and gestured her into the trees. "Time to go," he whispered. "Now, while they're distracted."

Hermione shook her head. "No," she mouthed, her voice barely audible even to herself. "No, I can't leave him." She turned to watch Draco.

Lucius grabbed her chin and forced her head around, forced her to look up at him. "We must go," he hissed. "We have lingered too long already."

Hermione knew he was right, but she wanted to protest. She wanted to stay near to Draco, to constantly reassure herself that he was alive, but the two of them alone wouldn't be able to take on all of the Death Eaters gathered in the clearing. They needed to find the rest of the refugees. She thought she might be able to talk a few of them into helping her rescue Draco. Pansy, she was certain, would agree to help, likely Blaise as well. Maybe others. But they needed to collect those reinforcements.

She had to order herself to her feet, had to order herself to follow Lucius into the trees. She threw a glance over her shoulder before the clearing faded from sight, pressed her fingers to her lips, and blew a silent kiss toward Draco. _Soon_ , she told him silently. _We'll be safe soon._

* * *

They were well away from the clearing before she realized Lucius had no intention of looking for the others. He had moved quickly, not looking around at the sounds of battle or shouts and screams in the woods. He was moving fast, barely even checking that she was behind him. As far as she could tell, he was running. Running away from the fight.

Running away from Draco.

She grabbed at his arm, hauling him to a stop. Lucius rounded on her, his grey eyes flashing. "Miss Granger, we must get past the boundaries. Stop these delays. If we do not rendezvous at Carreg Cennen--"

"Draco," she said, pushing at his shoulder. "We have to go back for Draco. I'm not leaving without him. You _asked_ me to help you save him and now you're leaving him here!"

Lucius watched her for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. He sat down on a tree root and shoved one hand through his hair. The gesture was so familiar to her, so much one of Draco's gestures, that it made her throat thicken. "I know," he said in a low voice. "But that was a father speaking in panic. Do not mistake me, Miss Granger, I am worried about my son. But I cannot take on a dozen Death Eaters for him. I, of all people, know the tactics they are willing to use. We cannot get him while he is with the others. If he were separated, alone, that would be something different, but he's not."

"Get up," she whispered. She took a step forward, her hands shaking. "Get up. We're going back for him."

Lucius shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes. Hermione clutched her wand, heat spiraling through her as her temper soared. She stared at the man sitting in front of her, the man who looked so much like Draco. He wasn't truly like Draco in any way. She knew, knew without a single doubt, that if they were looking for Lucius, Draco would take on a _hundred_ men to rescue his father. He'd stayed in the castle, kept to his work of burning bodies and groveling to the Dark Lord, done everything ordered of him because he wanted to protect the people he cared about. And Lucius was sitting there, ready to give up, ready to leave his son behind.

She hissed, backing away from him, her wand held low. "You're a coward," she said, her voice almost a growl. "You're a coward, Lucius Malfoy. You always have been. You lie and wriggle your way out of everything that might cause you hurt without the slightest bit of concern for what it will do to anyone else. I saw what that did to your family before the war, and now you're doing the same thing."

Lucius brought his head up. His eyes were dark with anger and in the shadows of the trees his face looked gaunt and hollow, like a skull. "Do not speak to me that way, Miss Granger. You have no idea of the sacrifices I have made for my--"

"Sacrifices!" Hermione laughed, low and bitter. "You weren't the one living in that castle. You weren't the one obeying every command the Dark Lord gave. You weren't the one forced to torture, forced to put on a show, for their amusement. You've been hiding away, not fighting every day to keep alive. You _are_ a coward and now you're going to leave your son to die! Jonah will kill him and it will be your fault!"

Lucius' face went bone white as the blood drained out of it. "Say that again," he demanded. "Jonah? Jonah Crabbe?"

Hermione tensed, her grip on her wand tightening. Her voice trembled as she talked and her eyes stung with prickling tears, but she forced the words out. "Jonah wants revenge on Draco. He blames him for his son's death. When I was escaping the castle with George, I overheard someone talking. No one expects Draco to come back from this mission alive. Jonah's going to kill him."

Her words seemed to echo in the forest around them. Lucius swayed, one hand slamming against the tree to hold him upright. He lifted his head and met her eyes, and Hermione's knees went weak. She had never seen that much despair on anyone's face, that much sudden pain and hopelessness. In that moment, she regretted what she'd said to him, but she wouldn't take it back.

"Jonah," Lucius said. He nearly moaned the word. "Jonah Crabbe. Why didn't you tell me this before? Why didn't you say this earlier?" He jumped up from the tree root and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her hard. "Jonah is a sadist. He's as much of one as Bellatrix! Idiot girl! I could have done something before and now it may be too late."

Lucius shoved her away and spun around, his wand practically leaping into his hand, the knife suddenly appearing in the other. A voice from the trees froze both him and Hermione in place.

"Suppose we don't need to be quiet any longer." A Death Eater stepped out of the trees, his mask's pattern clearly identifying him.

"Jonah." Lucius straightened, his hands tightening around his weapons. He made a gesture with his head to Hermione, silently commanding her to step behind him. She ignored that, moving closer instead. She held her wand tight and lifted her chin to stare at Jonah.

A pair of men came out of the woods, moving to stand on either side of Jonah and blocking the path into the trees. Jonah snapped his fingers. The black globe Lucius had made at the clearing floated over his shoulder to hover between them, and Hermione heard Lucius swear softly.

Jonah shoved his mask off and smiled, lips twisted and teeth bared. "Hello, _traitor_. Thought you were dead. The Dark Lord's going to give me quite the reward when I deliver you and your son to him as corpses."

"Draco." Hermione took a step forward, moving shoulder to shoulder with Lucius. "What have you done with him?"

Jonah looked at her, then gave a long laugh. "Oh, this is even better. You're his little whore, aren't you? Don't know how you got out of the castle, girlie, but I promise I'll let you live. Bella will be very, _very_ happy to have you back. Fuck, I might even let Draco live long enough to watch her kill you."

One of the other men snorted, knocking his shoulder against his companion's. "Think we should let him burn her body or just collect the pieces after Fenrir has at her?"

Hermione shuddered. Most of her nightmares involved the things Fenrir would do to her if he ever took her. A brutal, violent rape would be only the beginning. She knew he wouldn't stop there. He would shred her body, cut her apart, tear her limbs from her body and rip out her throat, fucking her until she died and even after.

As if they could hear her thoughts, the men laughed. "Nah, leave her in one piece," one said. "That way she can be brought back as an Inferi and the fun never has to stop."

Red poured across Hermione's vision, like blood had flowed into her eyes. She leapt forward, screaming, her wand slashing through the air. The spells came easily to her, the Dark power in the wand flowing through her. These men, these _bastards_ dared to threaten her, dared to threaten Draco. She wasn't going to allow it. He'd protected her in the castle, kept her alive and kept her safe, and she was going to do no less for him.

Behind her, Lucius swore. A burst of magic flew past her. The Death Eaters responded immediately, wands aimed and spells shouted. A sparking beam of red hit her leg, sending pain through her. Her knee and hip twisted, as if the joints were being pulled apart, the tendons and ligaments straining. Hermione screamed, clutching at her thigh, but she forced herself to keep moving. She was going to stop this here, take these men down. She wouldn't allow them to go one step further. They would not be permitted to _breathe_ for one more moment.

One man was down already, unmoving. The other was crouched beneath a tree and retching up blood. Hermione hit him with a blasting spell that threw him into the tree with a crunch. She turned her attention to Jonah, dueling with Lucius. Hermione concentrated. She raised her wand and took aim at Jonah's back. This was for Draco. This was for _them_. She focused her thoughts, building them into a whirlwind of hate and anger, until she could feel them twisting into a shadowy knot. Into a Dark chain in her mind. She had to survive this fight. Draco had to survive this battle. If that meant others had to die, if it meant she had to kill, so be it.

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

The green light of the spell struck Jonah between the shoulder blades. He let out a wrenching cry as he fell. Hermione watched, wand clutched in her sweaty grip. Jonah hit the ground, dead before he fell into the dirt.

"Fuck you," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'll see you in hell, Jonah Crabbe."

Lucius gaped at her. His lips and teeth were coated in blood; one eye was swollen shut. He sucked in air and lowered his wand. "Gryffindor foolhardiness," he said when he'd caught his breath. He drew his knife and bent over the men, quickly slitting their throats to ensure they were dead. Despite her anger and the kill she'd made, Hermione turned aside, unable to watch as Lucius finished off the Death Eaters.

He straightened, wiping the blade of the knife on his trouser leg, and he gave her a long look. "Come," he said in a soft voice, his hand extended to her. "We _must_ go. Now."

Hermione drew back when she saw the blood on his fingers. She had no physical traces on her own fingers, no blood on her hands, but she'd killed Crabbe. The reality of it was settling into her mind. She gulped and wrapped her arms around her torso as a tremble spread through her body. The pain in her leg doubled, screaming along her nerves. She saw Lucius start for her, his face pale, but too late. She collapsed, head and heart pounding. The world dimmed and greyed, tunneling into black.

* * *

Hermione woke, choking and shaking. Her body juddered, her head throbbing in echo. She moaned and the sway of the world stopped. "Miss Granger," said a voice very close to her. She forced her eyes open. A blurry, pale face was there, with a pointed nose and grey eyes.

Hermione smiled and cupped his cheek. "Draco," she murmured. He was carrying her, taking her to safety, and she lifted her head to kiss him.

He tipped his head away. "Miss Granger," he said again, and this time she heard the difference in his voice. She blinked and shook her head, rubbing her eyes until her vision cleared. She looked at him, at Lucius. He met her eyes, the swelling in his face much faded. "The trail I was taking out of the boundary wards is blocked. Someone's destroyed the path, downed the trees around it. We're taking an alternate route. I didn't want to go this way, as it's too known, but we have no choice now. You've woken just in time. I won't be able to carry you over some of the rougher patches."

He put her down gently, holding her until she found her balance. Hermione tested her weight carefully on her injured leg. There was pain, deep and throbbing, but she could stand. After a few experimental steps, she determined she could walk. "Hurts a bit," she said, blinking in surprise at the harsh tone of her own voice. She put her hand to her throat and looked at Lucius.

"You screamed rather violently when I fixed your leg," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Fortunately, it seems you have an ability to take a great deal of pain. It's not the first time I've witnessed this from you. I pray I never need to witness it again."

He sat on a fallen log and stretched out one leg, rubbing absently at his knee. "From what I've been able to observe, the fighting is almost over. Your friends, my refugees - their skills are more impressive than I would have thought before all of this, but I doubt they were good enough in the long run. We passed several bodies as we came this way. Only one was a Death Eater."

Hermione felt her throat thickening. She sat on the log beside Lucius and forced herself to speak. "The Dea-"

"It was not my son," Lucius murmured.

Hermione exhaled sharply, almost sobbing with relief. She wondered who had fallen, which of the refugees had been killed in the fight, but there wasn't time to grieve. As long as she had hope that Draco was still alive, she didn't _need_ to grieve.

Lucius stood and rolled his shoulders. "If you're ready?"

She nodded. Following him into the woods, she kept her wand in hand. Each rustle of leaves overhead or snap of a twig in the thick underbrush made her breath catch and her heart race, but she kept her focus. She peered into the shadows between the trees along the narrow path, watching for an ambush.

For several minutes, all was quiet, then Lucius stopped and raised his hand. He gestured her forward and she moved up beside him, each foot placed with care to avoid any noise.

The woods around them were thick, almost impenetrable even to sunlight and wind. The trees pressed close together, twining around each other, locked in a barrier as far as she could see into the shadows. The narrow path where they stood was the only break in that barrier. Lucius pointed ahead to a pair of giant trees on either side of the trail. "Between the two oaks," he whispered. "There is a small clearing past them. The wards end at the oaks. We will be able to Apparate and meet any other survivors at the rendezvous. Take great caution, Miss Granger. When we break the boundary, we will be vulnerable. We can exit, and _they_ can enter. Now we are at greatest risk."

He held his wand and dagger at the ready and slowly moved along the path. Hermione slipped into place behind him, trying to see through the shadows. A shimmer in the air, barely feet away, indicated the boundary where the refugees had set their alarm wards. Hermione ordered herself to breathe steady, to remain calm, even with their escape so close.

A scream of magic broke the silence. Red and yellow beams of light pierced the darkness. Hermione pressed close to the closest tree, the bark scraping her cheek. One of the trees on the far side of the clearing exploded in a shower of leaves and splinters, great chunks of wood spattering into the surrounding trees. Lucius shoved in front of her as a tree chunk flew at them. He grunted and gave a sharp cry when it slammed into his arm. Hermione winced at the loud crack.

Lucius dropped his wand, his arm dangling at his side. Swearing violently, he slumped against the tree. "Broken," he snarled when Hermione touched his elbow. "Leave it. Leave _off_. I have taken worse before."

Hermione edged around him. The remnants of the tree were burning, flames reaching for the nearby trunks. Nothing else had caught fire, and the flames had a green tinge at the tips. The fire seemed to be laughing, a wicked cackle in each snap of flames. Two figures appeared in the fire and stepped out of it, masked faces orange and red with reflected flame.

One strode to stand in the center of the open clearing, his broad shoulders seeming to fill the space. The other flicked his wand, extinguishing the tree. In the last flare of light, a ring shone on his hand. He pushed his hood back and his pale hair shone. Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth as Lucius swore softly beside her.

"Malfoy," barked the large man. "This is insane. You're wasting time."

"Corner said if anyone broke through our lines, they would come this way. If there is anyone left to capture, they'll have to come through here. We're not leaving until we're certain everyone is accounted for. Or do _you_ want to go back to the Dark Lord and tell him someone may have escaped?"

Draco's voice, muffled and twisted by his mask, was still so achingly familiar that it made Hermione's heart flutter. So close, she thought. They were so close. If she could take out the other man, Draco could be safe. She could grab him, all three of them - Draco and her and Lucius - could cross the boundary, and they would all be safe. They would reach the rendezvous and she would never, _never_ let him go again. If she moved away from the tree, moved out of the shadows, Draco would see her, and they could escape together.

She tightened her grip on her wand. A heartbeat passed. She took a deep breath, readying herself to cast the spell that would take the other man down. She narrowed her eyes and focused on him, on the one man who stood between Draco and freedom and life.

Lucius shifted beside her. She startled, jerking against him. His broken arm scraped the tree and he gasped in pain.

"There!" shouted the other Death Eater. Draco spun and they fired together, brilliant green spells flying from their wands. Hermione shoved Lucius to the ground and dropped beside him.

She screamed as one of the green spells cut across her shoulder. "Draco!" she shouted. "Draco, no!"

Lifting her head, she stared through the tangled mess of her hair as the steel mask turned her direction. Not a hint of his face, not even the barest glimpse of his eyes in the shadows of the mask, but she knew his stance. Knew the way his shoulders had stiffened and his chin came up. He'd heard her.

He knew she was there.

The other Death Eater shoved him in the shoulder. "Petrified, boy?" he roared. "Move your arse!"

The man leapt forward, black robes fluttering, left hand extended and wand up. His arm broke through the shimmering in the air between the oaks. Before Hermione could do more than open her mouth for another shout to Draco, both Death Eaters froze.

A high-pitched sound started, quiet at first, then loud. Louder. It rose into a scream, a shriek that echoed through the trees. Beside her, Lucius convulsed.

In the clearing, Draco and the other man both shook. They dropped to their knees, hands clutching their heads. They howled, agonized sounds ripping from them. The large Death Eater fell to his side, shuddering and twitching on the forest floor. 

Draco dropped forward, catching himself on his hands, his body twisting against the sonic assault. He screamed, pain filling his voice. Hermione shuddered with him. The sound was exactly the same as he'd screamed under Bella's Cruciatus all those weeks ago.

Lucius was reacting to the noise as well, tears streaming down his face, his one good hand slapped over one ear, the other pressed to his shoulder in a desperate attempt to block out the shrieking alarm.

Hermione ignored him. She burst from the trees and into the clearing, skidding to a stop in front of Draco. She grabbed his cheeks, grabbed the edges of the steel mask, and ripped it from his face.

Behind it, his expression was twisted, blood dripping from his nose, blood staining his teeth. Blood pooled in the corners of his eyes and slid down his cheeks like tears.

Hermione lifted his face, forcing him to look at her, to see her even through his pain. She covered his ears with both hands in hopes she could block out the sound that was affecting the men. It wasn't bothering her, wasn't more than an annoyance, and she had _no_ idea what it was. Whatever this magic was, it only affected the Death Eaters around her. When the boundary broke as a Dark Mark passed over it, the spell reacted.

If she was another woman, the old Hermione, the one who hadn't been taken captive and been broken in some deep, impossible way, she would have been celebrating. Astonished and thrilled by a spell that would take out evil men without affecting the resistance fighters.

But now, all she could see was that Draco was suffering. Draco was in pain, reacting to the spell. He was being tortured by it.

Hermione screamed with him, screamed _for_ him. She clutched his head, covered his ears, and screamed out her own torment at the agony he was in.

His grey eyes met hers, no recognition in them. He could see nothing but pain.

Hermione ducked to him, slamming her mouth to his. She kissed him, tasting smoke and blood on his lips. She bit at him, kissed her own breath from her lungs, pressed his mouth open and swept her tongue across his. She kissed him with fear and desperation, with need and pain, with every emotion that her months of captivity had locked inside her. She caught his screams in her mouth, swallowed his pain and took it for her own.

When she lifted her head, his eyes had cleared. He was still making whimpering sounds, still shuddering and trembling against the noise, but he saw her. He _saw_ her. "Her--" he choked. "Hermi--"

She shushed him. She wanted to smooth his hair back, to brush her fingers over his mouth, but she didn't dare to take her hands away from his ears. She didn't know if she was doing anything at all to block out the noise for him, but she had to believe that she was. It was the only thing she could do for him.

She leaned forward, kissing his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, kissing the blood away from the corners of his eyes. She licked his cheekbones and the curve of his bottom lip, cleaning the blood from his skin. "Draco," she whispered against his mouth. She didn't think he could hear her. She spoke anyway. "Draco, I'm here. I have you. You're safe. _We're_ safe."

Despite his obvious agony, his mouth curled. He smiled at her, his grey eyes gleaming. His lips formed the shape of her name.

Then his eyes widened. He looked over her shoulder, his eyes snapped wide, and he shoved backwards, ripping out of her grip. He scrabbled back, struggling to his feet, his wand lifted.

Over her head, a bright golden rope of magic shot through the air. It wrapped around Draco, pinning his arms to his sides. It lifted him several feet and left him hanging there, his feet dangling and kicking. A second golden rope lifted the other Death Eater as well.

Hermione stared up at them, frozen with surprise and confusion, as the magical ropes brightened. They glowed, stronger and stronger, until the gold shaded into a white so brilliant she could barely stand to look at it. 

Hermione scrambled to stand, reaching up for Draco's feet. He hung out of her reach, his boots just beyond her fingertips even when she jumped. 

The glow brightened even further, searing her eyes. Unable to stop herself, she looked away, her arm over her face.

A booming explosion shook the clearing. Instantly, the bright light disappeared, the sonic assault stopped.

Hermione stood in the middle of the clearing. Alone.

She stared up at the space above her. No Death Eater, no Draco. Nothing. They were gone.

Something fluttered down through the trees above her. She held her hand out and it landed on her shaking palm. A scrap of black fabric, torn from a Death Eater's robes, stained and spotted with blood. 

Her breath caught in her throat. She fought to breathe, to marshall her thoughts. She ordered herself to focus, but her mind refused to answer her. The only thought she held was that she'd had Draco. She'd had him. Right _there_ , she'd had him, and now he was gone. 

An explosion. 

A scrap of blood-stained fabric in her hand.

And Draco's steel mask at her feet.

She bent down and picked up the mask, her hands trembling. Slowly, she folded the mask into her arms, hugging it close to her chest. She bent her head over it, crooning softly to it. It was all she had of Draco. She kissed the cold steel forehead, her lips tracing the carvings that were achingly familiar to her. 

When she lifted her head, she touched the leather belt around her neck. The weight of the leather, the chill of the mask, even the scent of blood - it was all reminders of Draco. She clung to it all. She let it wrap around her, taking her away from danger. In his quarters at Hogwarts, in the alcove. In his arms. That's where she had been safe for so long. The _only_ place she had been safe.

She barely heard the sounds nearing her. Soft, cautious footsteps and hushed voices. "Someone's there," a hoarse voice said. "Someone's still there. How the fuck did they beat the spell?"

Hermione didn't lift her head. She stared into the empty eyes of the steel mask, imagining deep grey behind those blank holes, imagining strands of pale blond hair falling over the carved whirls. "Draco," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Holy shit," the hoarse voice said. "No. _No_. No fucking way."

A heavy thud shook the ground. A figure dropped to its knees in front of her. A hand touched her cheek, settling under her chin. Raising her head.

Hermione stared at a shock of messy black hair, round black glasses, and brilliant green eyes.

"It _is_ you," Harry said. 

Hermione clutched Draco's mask to her breasts and dropped forward into Harry's arms.

* * *

The bed was soft and warm, comfortable beneath her too-thin bones. Hermione drifted, her dreams a strange mix of colors, bright green and gleaming silver flowing around her. She woke, grasping frantically for the images that had come to her - grey eyes, steel mask, green flames - but they slipped away before she could do more than twitch.

She rolled in the bed, instinctively reaching for Draco. She wanted to burrow in against his chest, to duck her head under his chin. She wanted to pull his arm over her and trace the outlines of the Dark Mark in his arm. To hear his soft breathing behind her, to feel his legs tangled in hers. 

But there was no one there with her. No long fingers on her waist, no hot kisses against her nape. Nothing. 

Nothing but the steel mask clenched in her hand. She'd held on to it for long enough that her fingers had locked around the side and the edge of it had cut into her palm. Dried blood flaked away from her skin as she forced her hand open. Whimpering softly from the cramp, she gently settled the mask on the pillow beside her, twisted so she could look into the eye holes and pretend Draco was there next to her.

She reached for her throat, intending to wrap her hand around the leather belt, but she touched nothing but skin.

She gasped and patted at her neck, movements more and more anxious as she realized that it hadn't loosened as she slept, hadn't slipped off her throat. Hermione sat up, shoving the blanket aside, driving her hands under the pillow and down the head of the bed. She felt everywhere for it, but it was gone. Her stolen Death Eater's wand was on the bedside table but that was it. The belt was _gone_.

Hermione curled over Draco's mask. Now it was all she had of him. 

Slowly, she turned the mask over and slid it under her face. She lowered her head, carefully fitting her face into it. The shape of it wasn't for her, didn't fit to her skull, but she settled into it regardless, angling her lips into the hollow there, rubbing her cheeks against the interior. It was softer than she'd expected, almost warm, like it was charmed to be more comfortable than the plain steel.

It was certainly comfortable to her. She thought, if she could just concentrate, she'd be able to feel the heat of Draco's skin in it, smell the hints of shampoo and soap from their little shared bathroom at the castle.

She tucked her hands under her head, palms up, and pressed the mask gently against her face. Eyes closed, she breathed. It wasn't enough, would never be enough, but for a few moments she could pretend that she had him with her. That she was safe with him.

A tentative knock came from behind her. Hermione lifted her head, turning toward the sound. The mask clung to her face, only falling once she had faced the door.

"Fuck," Harry said, his mouth twisted as he stared at the mask, once again clenched in her fingers. "What the hell did Malfoy do to you?"

Hermione shook her head, unable to respond. There wasn't a quick answer. She couldn't begin to explain, not without hours to go over everything. And even then, she didn't think she'd be able to give an explanation that would make sense to anyone but her. 

Harry watched her silently, then gave a long sigh. He rubbed his forehead. "You're safe," he said finally. "He won't hurt you again. I'll take that."

He held out one hand and took a step into the room.

Hermione snatched the mask close, wrapping her arms around it protectively.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He took another step. "Hermione," he said. "Give it to me."

She shook her head. "No," she said, her voice a ragged croak. She stroked the rim of the mask, brushed her fingers over the metal mouth. "Mine."

Harry inhaled sharply. He straightened, lips thinning out. "Right. That's what he did, then? He'll pay for it."

He turned, striding out of the room.

Hermione stared after him, her mind racing. _He'll pay for it. He'll pay for it._

Harry had used the future tense. He'd made a low, but definite, threat. About Draco. Hermione halted on one conclusion.

Draco was alive.

Hermione leapt out of the bed, mask shoved down her shirt to bump against her stomach as she ran into the hallway. She looked back and forth, seeing nothing but barred wooden doors and stone walls leading both directions. At the far end of the hall was a staircase and she rushed for it. 

Quiet voices came from the floor below, soft laughter and the thud of footsteps. From the next floor up, there was nothing. Complete silence.

Hermione held her hand over the mask beneath her shirt, pushing it to her ribs. She took a deep breath, her free hand briefly touching her throat and the missing collar.

She went up.

The stairs went higher and higher, turning into a torch-lit spiral after three flights. She followed, her ears straining, eyes locked on each torch as it came into view. She didn't know how long she'd been climbing when her outstretched hand hit a door. The stairs ended at a landing just barely wide enough to stand on. There was nothing else besides the door. Just solid wood set into the stone wall, bracketed on either side by torches that burned with a weak blue-tinged flame.

There was no handle or knob. Hermione felt around, pushed at the wood, prodded the stones, but nothing happened. There was no give in the door at all.

She slumped against it, her forehead to the wood. "Please," she whispered. "Please. Let me in. Draco. Where's Draco?"

She closed her eyes, hand to her stomach to feel the mask beneath her shirt. Too exhausted to go back down the stairs, she slowly sank to her knees on the narrow landing. She folded her feet beneath herself, rested her hands on her thighs. She took the position she'd been ordered to take so many times at Hogwarts, sitting between Draco's feet at the Dark Lord's side, watching the Death Eaters in their revels. It was automatic, a response she couldn't stop herself from making.

She sat quietly, waiting, ignoring the scream she heard. She ignored the second as well, then her eyes gradually opened. She wasn't at Hogwarts, wasn't surrounded by Death Eaters, wasn't watching the tortures and vile acts, listening to the screams. If this was a safe place, there shouldn't _be_ any screams.

Her head snapped up.

From behind the door, a third scream echoed. Deep, masculine. A familiar, anguished scream that broke and shattered, falling silent.

Draco.

Hermione slammed her hands against the door.

"Hit him again," a voice shouted. "He'll break, they all break! We need what he knows! Wake him up and hit him _again_."

Draco screamed one more time and Hermione screamed with him. She screamed his name, howled and hammered the door, begged through tears and pounded on the door until the sides of her hands tore, blood smearing the wood.

The door swung open.

Hermione fell onto cold stones, spattered and stained dark in places. Feet moved in her view, pairs of legs, jeans and trainers and "Goddammit, Hermione. Get her out of here."

"No!" she shouted. She grabbed the closest man, using his clothes for leverage to haul herself to her feet. George, the scar of his missing ear clearly visible under singed, blackened hair. Harry, his green eyes wide and angry. Lee, his burn scars shining in the light of his raised wand.

And against the wall, chained at wrists, ankles, and neck. Draco. Slumped and panting, shirt gone, trousers torn. Blood dripped down his chest from a dozen cuts.

Hermione shoved George away. Five steps to Draco. Four, three.

Harry grabbed her around the waist. He hauled her back, lifting her off her feet as she shrieked and fought. Her shirt loosened in the struggle and Draco's steel mask dropped to the floor, hitting with a clatter that echoed in the room.

"Hermione, stop. Stop!" Harry hissed against her ear. "You don't know what you're doing. _Stop_ before someone gets hurt."

"He _is_ ," she moaned. "What are you doing to him? Harry, please, please. Let me go! He needs me." She watched Draco, only the chains holding him upright. She reached for him, strained her arms in her efforts. "I need him."

Harry went still behind her. She felt his chin moving in her hair, his head shaking back and forth. "Fuck," Harry muttered. "The things he must have done to you." He made a gesture with his fingers just at the edge of her vision.

Lee grinned nastily. He stepped close to Draco, grabbed Draco's hair and yanked his head up. Bruises surrounded Draco's eyes, blood caked his lips. Lee pushed his wand into Draco's throat, shoving it beneath his jaw. "Hey, Death Eater," Lee said. "Open your eyes."

Draco groaned softly but didn't move. Lee snickered and snapped his wand down, slapping it across Draco's chest. Another cut opened, blood beading up along the line of his scar. The chains rattled as Draco writhed against the pain.

"How many times?" Lee asked, his fingers locked in Draco's hair. He pointed his wand at Hermione. "There she is, Death Eater. How many times did you have her? Did you do like all your friends, hmm? Haul her up in front of your master and violate her? Did you let the others rape her too? Bet you did. Bet you weren't the only one. We know your kind, bastard."

Hermione shrieked a protest and renewed her struggles. Harry's arms tightened around her. 

Draco opened his eyes. He looked at nothing, pupils blown wide, blood staining his pale lashes. His lips parted, mouth curling in a weak sneer. "Fuck you," he said.

Laughing, Lee touched his wand to Draco's arm, grinding the tip into the Dark Mark. " _Crucio_."

Draco screamed.

A desperate need to _protect_ rose up in Hermione, the same need that had shoved her into action so long before, when Bellatrix had attacked Draco and she in turn had attacked Bellatrix. She kicked and fought against Harry, writhed in his grip, brought her hands up and scraped her nails down his cheeks. She grabbed his ear and ripped at it, clawed and raked at his flesh until he released her with a growled curse.

Hermione snatched up Draco's mask and shoved it into the front of her jeans. She leapt across the room, shouldered Lee aside, threw herself in front of Draco. She wrapped her arms around his neck, plastered herself to his body. She clung to him, shuddering, begging him to look at her. To see her there. She kissed him, kissed him hard, sliding her tongue into his mouth, tugging his lip between her teeth.

A hand touched her shoulder and Hermione growled. She whipped her head around, teeth bared. "Mine," she snarled. "Mine, mine. _Mine_!"

Harry stood there, arms folded. He stared at her. "Hermione," he said with a sigh. "Malfoy isn't worth this. You don't want to do this. Not after what he's done to you." 

George moved into her line of view. "Harry, I've told you repeatedly. Malfoy didn't lay a hand on her, not unless they were putting on a show for the others."

"And I've told you that you have to be mistaken," Harry said harshly. "Look at her. You think this is a _show_ for them? Other than Lucius downstairs, he's the only one of them here! Maybe you saw him treating her a little better, but he's still one of them. He's still a Death Eater. And he still has information that we need."

"You don't have to torture it out of him."

Hermione ignored their arguing. She leaned her head against Draco's, murmuring to him, telling him over and over that she was there with him, that she had him, that she wouldn't let them hurt him. She told him everything he'd told her over the weeks of her captivity. They had to play the game, they had to do what was necessary to survive. He'd protected her and she would protect him.

"No," Harry's voice said, far too close to her ear. 

Hermione jumped, still clinging to Draco, but she looked at Harry. She hadn't realized she'd spoken loudly enough for Harry to hear her, but she didn't care. Every word was the truth. "He protected me," she said. "He cares about me. I'll protect him too, Harry, even from you."

"No," he said again. His eyes hardened. "He doesn't deserve protection. Not until he tells us what we want to know." He flicked his wand.

A spell wrapped around her, pulling her away from Draco. Hermione fought it, writhed and struggled against it, but there was no one to grab, no one to fight. Just the magic holding her back. 

Harry looked at Lee, then at Draco. He shook his head. "Lee, keep going. Get what we need."

He pulled Hermione across the room, magic bonds holding her tight. "George," Harry said at the door. "Don't interfere. Lee?" 

Lee paused with his wand at Draco's ribs, blood dripping down Draco's side. "What?" he snapped.

Harry sighed. "Don't kill him."

He pulled Hermione out of the room. The door slammed shut behind them.

Hermione stared at the door, eyes locked on it, as it disappeared around the curve of the spiral stairs. She closed her eyes, silently weeping, as she heard Draco scream again.

Harry pulled her down the stairs, back into the hallway she'd first stepped into. He took her back to the room where she'd woken, opened the door, and waved his wand to float her inside and onto bed.

The bonds released as Harry stepped out of the room. A small window formed in the solid door and Harry peered through it. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said. "But you'll need to be questioned too. I promise it'll go more gently for you."

He pressed his hand against the window. "I know you're confused. But we'll get you some rest, some food. Once you're feeling better, you'll understand. He's treated you badly, done god knows what to you, but you don't have to be afraid of him. You don't have to put on that show for him now. He won't hurt you any more."

The window sealed over.

Hermione slumped into the bed, pulling Draco's mask from her jeans. His blood was on her hands, drying on her fingers. She slowly brought her hand to her mouth and slid her fingers in. She sucked on them, licking the blood away, remembering one night when Draco had kissed her from ankle to neck, his mouth traveling over her entire body, his tongue flicking between her fingers and deep into her her cunt, until she arched and screamed his name.

She curled onto her side and pulled the mask close, cuddling it under her chin. "Draco," she whispered, tears dripping onto the flat pillow. "Draco, I'm sorry. I'll get you out." She kissed Draco's mask, imagining it was him. Imagining he was there with her. Arms folded tight around herself, she clung to the memory of Draco in her arms. Of his grey eyes turned stormy with need as he moved over her, of his flushed cheeks and parted lips as he slid deep into her. She clung to the memories of his face, relaxed in sleep, of his arm over her waist, of his chest pressed along the length of her back. Of the taste of brandy and the smell of blood. Of his scars and the Mark burned into his arm.

Slowly, she reached out and took her wand from the small table next to the bed. She pressed it against her left forearm, muttering a charm she'd used hundreds of times, back when she'd been studying for exams and needed to copy something from a book. The charm cast a perfect image onto any surface, a precise copy of what she held in her mind. Hermione adjusted the charm, altering the magic. She didn't want an exact copy for this.

A twisting black shape formed on her skin, scales and fangs coming into focus. Hermione concentrated, the image crisp in her thoughts. A few moments of work, and she dropped the wand onto the bed, smiling at the black, sinuous dragon tucked into the crook of her elbow. 

Her hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm. "Stay calm, Draco," she said to the mask. "They'll pay for what they've done to you."

**Author's Note:**

> *strolls in, nine years late*
> 
> So, some people wanted an update? XD
> 
> I've been blocked on this for a long, long loooooooooooooooong time, but this past week, some Tumblr posts and conversations here and there made me realize I wasn't blocked. I was dealing with a lot of anxiety, for reasons that don't need explained at this juncture. I held that anxiety up to the light, threw it over my shoulder, and added 4000 words in two days. XD
> 
> I've done my best to reread the previous installments and maintain consistency with them as much as I could, but whatever I had tentatively planned nine years ago is definitely not there any more. We'll see where I go next.
> 
> I PROMISE IT WILL NOT TAKE ME SO LONG TO DO ANOTHER INSTALLMENT, I SWEAR TO YOU ALL.


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